Hourglass
by Ahh I'm On Fire
Summary: When the School captures Max as well as multiple nations, it's up to the rest of the countries and the Flock to break them out. But with the scientists getting closer to figuring out just how big of a secret they've captured, will they make it in time?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so new story. A crossover. Enjoy! Rated T for swearing and violence? Not much of either yet, though. **

**Please review, buddies!**

**Anyways. Enjoy chapter one, review, hope everyone's in character. **

**OH YEAH this is set around book three of Max Ride. Or before that. **

**Also I'm sorry if the perspective is off, I tried it in 3****rd**** person which isn't something I normally do. I had to go back and rewrite parts because I switched to first person. I got so frustrated that partway through I changed to first person, hope you don't mind. **

**EDIT: Oh my gosh guys I read this over, and I'm so sorry for the fail grammar/perspective stuff D: It's mostly fixed now, I'm sorry it was so awful before.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, the lawsuit fell through, I still don't own anything. Seriously, I don't even own myself, my parents do. **

Max looks around and grins madly. Finally, a vacation! Just what she and the Flock need.

She stares around Times Square, standing on the sidewalk and gazing up at all the billboards and advertisements. She forgot how amazing New York City is.

Max continues staring around in awe, half-expecting a cameraman to do a wide 360 sweep of her looking around wonderingly while dramatic music played in the background.

"Max! I'm hungry; can we get something to eat?" Gazzy yells, effectively breaking the moment.

Max sighs and rolls her eyes, then realizes she's hungry too. "Sure, let's go somewhere less populated," she says, knowing that Iggy probably isn't enjoying the crowds and the noise. Plus, an Eraser attack in Times Square would be a disaster.

They walk a few blocks away a buy some hot dogs and chips from a cart, sitting down on a low cement wall to eat. Max sighs happily, glad to finally be able to get away from irritating people telling her to save the world.

"Hey."

"Gyah! Wha- Fang! How did you even do that!?"

Fang, who had accidently scared Max by sitting next to her, shrugs. "I guess the noise here masks the sound of my movements." He smirks slightly.

Max glowers. "What sound? You're completely silent."

He raises an eyebrow. "Exactly."

Nudge grabs Max's arm and points to a regal, important-looking building behind them. "Ooh, I wonder what that does Max! This place is so cool, we should live here! Oh look at that sign; it says there's a World Meeting in that building! That sounds important! That reminds me of when Angel and you got to meet the president, remember that? How cool-"

"Er, want another hot dog?" Max interrupts, shoving out a wrapped-up hot dog to Nudge in order to distract her.

"Yes please!"

Fang raises his eyebrow again, clearly saying, _Nice save. _Max nods in agreement.

Max whips around in alarm as a car comes screeching up to the curb and parks (illegally I might add) with two tires on the road and the other two on the sidewalk. Doors slam, and people stumble out of the SUV, groaning. All of them are young-looking guys that are dressed in various war-inspired outfits, and Max studies them with interest.

"You suck at driving! Why'd we even carpool anyways?" a man with white hair and shocking red eyes complains, leaning against the car.

"Cause we're in my city and you guys would get lost, of course!" This comes from the guy with dirty blond hair and glasses, holding a hamburger.

"Ve…I don't feel so good. Can I have some pasta?" a short guy with light brown hair and an odd curl on one side asks.

"Idiot! We don't have time for pasta, we have a World Meeting to attend! Why else would we be in this Smelly American hellhole?" Another person who looks almost identical to the previous guy steps out of the truck, gesturing angrily as he speaks.

"Hello comrades! This is where the World Meeting is, da?" A tall man wearing a scarf approaches the group from a nearby bench. Everyone in the group stiffens and turn around slowly.

"Ah, yes. Where did you come from again?" a man with short, shiny black hair and brown eyes says politely as he steps out of the van.

"I came from that bench, of course!" he says with a creepy childlike smile.

"Alright then…why don't we head in? We're late anyways, but it doesn't matter cause the meetings don't start until I arrive anyways!" the guy with the hamburger laughs obnoxiously.

Then Max hears a click and a familiar scream, and she turns around. Her heart leaps into her throat when she sees the scene behind her.

And Eraser is standing on behind the cement wall with Nudge in a headlock, a gun pressed against her temple. She's pulling on his arm wildly, but his grip doesn't budge.

"Let her go!" Max yells immediately. Not her best response to this sort of situation, she has to admit. But it was a bit of a surprise.

"Come with us, nice and easy, and none of you will get hurt," he says slowly as more Erasers come up behind him, all of them carrying odd-looking guns.

_The guns are new_, Max muses offhandedly.

Something flies through the air and hits the lead Eraser in the face. Max whips to the side to see that Fang threw his soda at him. She turns around in time to see Nudge wiggle out of her captor's grasp and kick him in the stomach. He doubles over gasping, and then – of course – a fight breaks out.

Max yells and throws the food that's in her hand at the nearest Eraser, but it doesn't do much good. She tackles him to the ground and gets a foot to the face. Growling, she retaliates with a few punches of her own.

**Meanwhile… **

"Whoa! What the heck, guys? What's going on?" America yells as a bunch of male supermodels start fighting with some kids. Or something.

"Kesesese! They're fighting, of course! How awesome!" Prussia says with a laugh.

"We gotta help! Those dudes just totally jumped those defenseless kids! C'mon!" America yells, punching a fist in the air dramatically.

"Sounds like fun, da?" Russia grins.

"I am not sure that is the best idea," Japan says quietly.

But America has already jumped into the fray, with Prussia and Russia close behind. Romano grabs onto Italy's arm to prevent him from running away, and Japan sighs. Why must things always be so complicated?

**Back to the fight… (Max's POV)**

_We're losing, _I think grimly as I duck to avoid another jab from an Eraser. Every time we take one of them out, two more melt out of the shadows and join in the fight. Nobody else seems to notice; as soon as the fight broke out the few pedestrians nearby all fled the scene.

"HAHA! You guys are so dead!" an unfamiliar voice rings out a few feet away from me. I do a somersault to avoid being kicked, and raise my head to see who it is.

The guy with blue eyes and glasses is fighting next to me, kicking and punching at the Erasers with surprising force and skill. Nearby, the man with purple eyes and a scarf is hitting the Erasers leisurely with a pipe that seems to have come out of nowhere. The Japanese-looking man has an actual _ninja sword thing _out and is jabbing away at the Erasers. The guy with red eyes drop kicks an Eraser in the chest and whips around to punch another one. The twin with lighter brown hair is waving a white flag franticly and shouting that he surrenders while his brother yells angrily at him in a language I vaguely recognize as Italian.

I resist the urge to stare with my mouth wide open. _Who are these people and why are they helping us?_ I wonder.

I shake my head and sock an Eraser in the jaw. Now, with the new help, we're slowly driving the Erasers back.

But all that goes to hell when several large black vans pull up to the curb, already-morphed Erasers jumping out of them.

"This way!" Blond Guy yells, motioning for us to follow him as he dashes into the important-looking building. I hesitate a minute, wondering if I can trust him. But they did fight on the Flock's side, so at least there's that.

"Follow him, guys!" I shout to the rest of the kids, who kick and punch their way through the thinning crowd of Erasers to race after the other people.

We skid through the doorway of the building, and Fang and Gazzy slam the doors shut behind them and shove a pole still connected to a sign through the handles.

"This way! Once we get to the conference room, everyone else can help!" Blonde Guy yells, running down a marble hallway. I don't know what he's talking about, but the other people with him seem to, so I gives the okay to the Flock. We sprint after him just as the door starts to crack, Erasers ramming into it on the other side.

"Over here, guys!" We follow the sound of Blond Guy's voice, and we turn the corner to see him yank open a door and race into a room, his friends following quickly behind him.

We leap in after them, and I slam the door shut behind us.

I turn around and immediately spot a mob of Erasers, all standing around the room with their guns pointing right at us.

Oh, _crap. _

The first thing I think is that it's a trap, but one look at the other guys' faces tells me it's not. Either they're really, _really _good actors, or they honestly weren't expecting this. I suspect the latter.

However, I don't have more time to contemplate this. Before any of us can even move, the Erasers have aimed the guns and fired.

I stare in surprise at the tranquilizer dart sticking out of my arm before sinking into darkness.

**Alright, so that's it, chapter one! What'd you think? **

**So that's my version of a fight scene. Lots of…stuff. Yeah. Hope I got everything right, I haven't read Max Ride in a while. I can only really remember anything that happened from books 1-3, after Dylan everything kind of went to hell. S i gh. **

**Also, recall that unmorphed Erasers look kinda like male supermodels. So yeah. **

**Review por favor! Me gusta reviews y readers…**

**~Ahh I'm On Fire~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, me again.**

**Thanks for all the reviews and story alerts and stuff! I was surprised in a good way (: **

**Also this chapter might be a little screwed up cause I first wrote it in 3****rd**** person, then went back and changed it to 1****st**** person. My apologies.**

**Edit: Fixed everything I could! Sorry about the suckiness**** ):**

**Disclaimer: Well, I used to own both Hetalia and Maximum Ride, but then I fell in a ditch and lost my memory and people stole them. **

**~Max's POV~**

I groan softly and opens my eyes a crack, faintly aware that my head is throbbing. I move my fingers around in slow circles on the metal floor of my cage.

Wait, what?

My eyes snap open in alarm, and I sit up quickly. I moan and clutch my head, which bangs into the top of my cage with a loud, painful _thunk_.

The Erasers attacking in New York City. The strangers helping us. Everything comes rushing back, and I slouch in my crate.

"Hey man, are you okay? That looked like it hurt," a voice to my right says.

I growl under my breath about the gender-specific term, but turns to face the person anyways. "I'm fine. It'll take more than that to hurt me," I reply offhandedly. I wonder where the rest of the flock is, and what happened to all those other people who fought the Erasers with us. Did anyone else escape? Am I the only one who the School captured? Hopefully.

I turn my attention back to the person next to me. I give a start when I see the bars of the cage next to me glowing with soft blue-white light. I quickly realize that it's electricity. The cage next to me is _electrified._

I frown and deftly touch my fingertips to the bars of my cage, but nothing happens. My cage is perfectly normal. You know, for a cage.

"So hey, d'ya know where we are?" The person, who sounds male, asks in a loud tone. I squint through the gloom and my eyes widen when I see who I'm next to.

It's Blond Guy, one of the people who helped fight the Erasers with the flock. He has sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes that are partially covered with glasses. A wayward piece of hair sticks up out of his messy locks, which has streaks of dried blood in it.

The guy himself, however, seems to be unharmed. But I know from experience that appearances can be deceiving.

"We're at a place called the School," I inform him.

He groans noisily. "Aw, what? A school? Really, of all places to be held captive," he frowns momentarily before the sunny smile reappears on his face. "Eh, whatever, I'll just escape again," he declares, sitting back in his cage.

I stare openly. "You've been here before?" I ask. No wonder he didn't seem so shocked before when I told him where we are.

I hear a creaking sound and looks ahead in time to see a whitecoat pushing a cage away on a wheeled lift. The cage's entire front had been ripped off, the metal mutated in such a way that only a person with some type of superhuman advantage could have done it.

I put two and two together and turn to face my fellow prisoner. "_You_ did that?" I say incredulously.

He grins even wider and nods eagerly. "Uh-huh! That's why they gave me the electric cage."

I immediately begin questioning him, deciding that he isn't too traumatized to answer. "What's your name? Why did you fight the Erasers with us in New York? And how did you manage to do _that _to a solid metal cage?"

"Oh, right! I'm Ame- er, Alfred Jones! And I saw that you guys were in trouble so I jumped in to save you, naturally! And ripping apart a cage isn't too hard, all you do it pull…"

I frown and nod distractedly, getting naturally suspicious at the name mess-up. Alfred, luckily, doesn't seem to notice. "I'm Maximum Ride, but you can call me Max. And is Alfred your real name?"

He looks confused. "Yeah, it is. Well, one of them, at least…," he says the last part almost to himself. "And cool name, by the way."

Something occurs to me, and I ask, "Did you see what happened to the other kids I was with?"

Alfred scratches the back of his head. "Oh, yeah, they got away. They tried to save you but you told them to go, and you looked all loopy on the tranquilizer."

I sigh and relax. At least the rest of the Flock got out okay. Hopefully they'll come save me without interference. "Thanks. Did they tranquilize you too?"

He nods in confirmation. "Yeah, but I woke up pretty quickly and jumped out a window in the van. They weren't expecting me to wake up so fast and stuff, but they still managed to shoot me again…"

I put on my best sympathetic face, which I've been told makes me look like I'm having a stroke.

"So what's the deal with this place anyways? What're they gonna do to us?" he asks curiously, looking around the darkened cage room with wide eyes.

"Well, they experiment on us. Most of the people here have wacky DNA or a superpower of some sort, and the whitecoats here do horrible experiment to test our limits." I shudder at the thought and draw my knees closer to my chest, trying to make my tiny cage feel bigger.

"You've been here before?"

"Yeah," I say, choosing not to elaborate.

"Ey, wait a second! Does this mean you have some kinda super ability too?!" Alfred exclaims.

"I guess you could say that," I say, my natural wariness coming out.

"Wicked cool! What is it?"

I am saved from answering, however, when a couple whitecoats unlock my cage and grab my arm, hauling my away roughly.

**Sorry for the short update! Remember, reviews make me write faster (: **

**Sorry for any mistakes and OOCness! Review**** por favor? **

**Adiós, tienes un buen día!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hola mis amigos. ****¿Cómo estás? ****Muy bien, yo espero. **

**Alright, enough of me and my Spanish. Here is an update for all of my lovely readers! Thank you so much for the reviews and favs and alerts and such (: **

**ALSO. SPEAKING OF EDITING, I RE-EDITED CHAPTER ONE. Please go reread it? It seriously sucked before. It's better now, I promise. I'm sorry I did such a bad job editing :P **

**ONWARDDDD~**

**Disclaimer: Well, disclaimers originated in Korea, and I don't feel like going all the way there to get one. Sorry guys. **

**~NEW YORK CITY~**

"Are you sure he said three? I could have sworn the meeting was scheduled for noon," England muses, stepping around a stray cat as he walks down the busy streets of New York City with several other nations beside him.

"Of course it's at three! That's what it said on the letter, oui?" France says, walking next to him.

"Whatever, aru. There's the building right there," China says, pointing to a large, heavily decorated building with a dome.

"Huh, I wonder what happened here," Germany says to himself, stepping around spilled drinks and fallen food. The lawn in front of the building is torn up, and there are new-looking tire marks on the sidewalk.

Spain and Hungary each pull open a door and the nations file in. Canada, unseen by everyone else, follows them. "Maybe they'll notice me this time," he whispers to himself.

When they finally reach the doors that leads into the conference room, the nations pause. There are long gouge marks in both doors and the wood is splintered and fragmented. It looks like someone broke down the door by collapsing their weight into it, and then tried without success to put it back together quickly.

Even worse, the room behind the doors is completely silent. There isn't a sound coming from it, which either means that they arrived first – which is unlikely, seeing as they're already 45 minutes late – or something's wrong.

All the countries seem to realize this at once, and a simultaneous chill goes through them. England and France share a rare look of understanding, and they each pull open a door.

When they see what's inside, all the nations gasp and stiffen. In the conference room, the table is overturned, and papers are scattered everywhere. Chairs are on the ground, some broken in a way that suggests they were used as weapons. Most of the lights are smashed, which puts the room in shadows. This only helps illuminate the gouge marks on the floors, walls and furniture.

The giveaway is the darts. There are small, colorful darts deeply embedded into the dark, expensive wood of the table, and buried into the plaster of the walls. There are thin smears of blood on the ground, and a few windows are shattered.

"What _happened _here?" Spain exclaims in horror, his usual happy demeanor gone.

"I don't know," Germany murmurs, bending down to touch his finger in a particularly large puddle of blood. He grimaces. Still warm. Whoever did this was here recently.

**Dun dun dunnnnn. Yup. There we have it, the other countries appear! I wasn't just gonna leave them out, don't worry. **

**Adiós! Tienes un buen día o noche o whatever! **

**AND DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW. REVIEWS MAKE ME UPDATE A HELLUVA LOT FASTER. **

**~Ahh ****I'm****On****Fire**


	4. Chapter 4

**Gaiz. New chapter. I EXPECT LOTS OF REVIEWS ON THIS. IT BE LONG. **

**Oh yeah and btw – there are no pairing in this besides the very necessary Fax. And even then there isn't much. **

**REVIEW AND I WILL UPDATE FASTER.**

**Disclaimer: YOUR FACE.**

"Let _go _of me! I said- ouch!" I yell as I'm tossed carelessly through a doorway and into a room. I spring up off the floor instantly, but the door is already shut and locked tight behind me. I groan and turn to look around the room, noticing with slight surprise that there are other prisoners in here.

Alfred is leaning in one corner, talking animatedly to the short Japanese man that was in New York earlier. The man with red eyes and white hair is slouched on an examination table, looking bored. A few feet away from him is the tall man with purple eyes, who is smiling creepily and looking around the room with interest.

In another corner are the two guys who look like twins. The one with lighter hair is curled up on the ground sobbing, and the one with darker hair is yelling at him in what I think is Italian.

I sigh gently, somewhat glad to finally see someone reacting the way they should be. I'm about to sit down in a chair when Alfred waves me over, grinning.

"Hey, Max! This is Kiku, and Kiku this is Max. I was just telling him what you told me about this place," Alfred says.

"Pleasure to meet you," Kiku says quietly. I nod back in response.

Alfred waves to everyone else, motioning for them to come over as well. They walk over and introduce themselves to me.

"I am the awesome Gilbert!" the man with red eyes says, grinning.

"I am Ivan, da?" the guy with purple eyes tells me, smiling in a creepy-childish way.

"I'm Lovino and this is my idiot fratello Feliciano," the darker-haired twin says grumpily.

"But you can call me Feli!" Feliciano exclaims, looking strangely happy for someone who was just sobbing moment earlier.

"I'm Maximum Ride, but you can call me Max," I reply.

There's a short silence, then I decide to ask something that's been bothering me ever since the attack in New York. "How do you guys know how to fight so well?"

"We've had a lot of practice," Alfred says with a shrug.

"What, are you guys in the mafia or something?" I ask incredulously. There has to be some anomalous reason why they're such good fighters – almost as good as me. It's not normal. Then again, neither are they, if they've been kept alive.

Feliciano and Lovino exchange sidelong glances, and Lovino coughs delicately into his hand. Feli drums his feet against the ground, looking nervous.

My mouth drops open. "You're not in the mafia or anything…right?!" I repeat slowly.

"Of course not! They're just kidding," Gilbert says quickly, not-so-subtly elbowing Lovino in the side.

"How are _you_ so good at fighting?" Alfred challenges, raising an eyebrow.

"I've had a lot of practice," I mimic dryly.

"Hey, what're they gonna do to us here anyways?" Gilbert asks, leaning back against the wall.

I sigh. "Experiment. It usually has to do with whatever skill you have…like for instance, I have a really good sense of direction. They could put me in a maze of something," I say with a shrug. Catching Feli's worried look, I quickly hurry on to explain, "But they'll probably just ask you questions. They want to know more about you…they don't seem to know a lot about you. What do they want from you, anyways?" I ask curiously. I never did find out what's different about them.

"There's a lot of things they could want from us," Alfred answers cryptically. The others nod in agreement.

"We work with the government, da?" Ivan explains.

I nod. "So you're saying that you're like, important government officials?" I guess.

"You could say that," Kiku replies quietly.

I frown. Usually the School is only interested in people who have some sort of genetic mutation…there must be something else they want out of these people other than information.

Although, judging from what I saw earlier, Alfred does have some sort of super strength. I don't know about the others, though.

Just then, the door bangs open and four or five whitecoats march in, led by a guy with a red patch on his lab coat. I recognize this as a sign that he's important around here. After them, a bunch of guards with helmets covering their faces come in, holding onto giant Taser-looking things and pointing them at us threateningly.

"You! Line up. We have some questions to ask you," the lead guy barks, pointing at us.

I yawn, getting up leisurely and leaning against the wall.

"I am Dr. Sanderas, and you will do what I say!" the same guy yells, looking angry at nothing.

I raise an eyebrow. "Since when do I ever listen to anyone around here?" I wonder to myself.

"No talking!" the doctor instructs loudly. "If you disobey, you will be punished," he says in what I think is supposed to be a threatening tone. It sounds more like he's being forced to eat something gross.

"SIR YES SIR!" I shout obnoxiously, doing a mocking salute.

"Hey, can we get some food?" Alfred asks, poking Dr. Sanderas in the arm.

"THIS PLACE IS BORING DAMMIT!" Lovino yells at nobody in particular.

The lovely doctor turns red, then a very attractive shade of blue. Next to me, Gilbert laughs and leans against the wall.

"ENOUGH! Be quiet and listen carefully. I'm going to ask you a few questions, and they're going to write the answers down," he says, sounding like he's going to explode. He gestures choppily to the other whitecoats at the last part.

"How fast can you heal?" he asks us all, narrowing his muddy brown eyes.

"Well, one time I got this paper cut, and it took a full two hours to heal," I say with wide, sincere eyes.

The doctor looks at me skeptically. "Are you telling the truth?"

"Shouldn't you be able to tell? You are a doctor…_right_?" When he doesn't answer immediately, I gasp overdramatically and point an accusing finger at him. "Guards! He's a fraud! Arrest him!" I yell in a panic.

Then, something pointy jams into my back, and before I can react, a guard electrocutes me. I gasp and go stiff, letting out a bloodcurdling scream as burning pain rips through my body.

It's gone fairly quickly, but I'm still reduced to a shuddering heap on the ground.

"Hey! Don't do that!" I hear Alfred yell. I open my eyes and see him standing in front of me, fists balled, looking angry.

The guard doesn't say a word, he simply rams Alfred with the Taser thing and shocks him.

Unlike me, however, Alfred hardly reacts at all. He goes stiff for a moment before relaxing again. Then he glares at the guard and punches him in the face.

The rest of the guards yell and push Alfred away from the guard he assaulted, who's laying on the ground in a dead faint.

"Very fascinating," the doctor says, one eye twitching. I half expect him to start foaming at the mouth.

His mad scientist assistants are frantically scribbling stuff down, their gazes darting up to Alfred and then to me every few seconds.

There's a strong grip on my arms, and Alfred hauls me up and sets me down in a chair. I give him an appreciative nod and try to regain a regular breathing pattern.

"Now, let me ask you again. _How fast can you heal?_" Dr. Sanderas says in a low, barely restrained voice.

I glare at him, choosing to ignore the sparking prods positioned dangerously close to my head. "Faster than _you_," I choose to say, baiting him.

His eye twitches again, but he must decide it's not worth it, so he turns to the person next to me, Gilbert. "What about _you? _How fast do you heal?" he says in a creepy mad scientist tone. I would roll my eyes at the clichédness of it all, but I'm too drained.

"Depends on how hard you hit me," Gilbert says snarkily. Then he flips Dr. Sanderas off and goes back to leaning on the wall.

The poor doctor looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel. That would be funny.

He turns to Romano. "And _you?_"

Romano glares at him. "Shut up, you bastard! Don't make me throw something at you!"

Luckily, no fights are started. The doctor moves on, an insane look in his eyes. I would love to be able to say that I helped drive a "doctor" crazy.

"Hm, how fast do you heal?" Dr. Sanderas says snappily to Feli.

"Ve! I don't know! Please don't hurt me!" Feli begs, cowering against the wall.

Dr. Sanderas rolls his eyes and glares at Ivan. "Give me a good answer or _you will get hurt!_" he shouts.

Ivan gets a creepy aura around him that makes us all shrink away from him. "I am thinking that you are not wanting to threaten me, da?" he says pleasantly. The doctor wisely moves on.

He simply jabs his finger at Kiku, because at this point he's too mad to form coherent speech. Although it would be funny to see him try.

Kiku simply stares at him, a thoughtful look in his eyes. The doctor gets impatient and moves on to Alfred. Once again, he simply points, still looking like he'll explode if he tries to formulate words.

"I'm not telling," Alfred says grumpily, pointedly looking away.

Finally, the doctor does explode. "YOU INCOMPETENT IDIOTS! I WILL BE BACK TOMORROW, AND IF YOU DO NOT HAVE SOME _STRAIGHT ANSWERS _FOR ME…I'll use other means of convincing you to obey," he screams. Then, he stomps out of the room like a 2 year old who just threw a tantrum, which is a scarily accurate description of what just happened.

"Well. I don't like him much," I say brightly, my brain still buzzing from the shock.

"I think the feeling is mutual," Gilbert snorts.

The door bangs open again before anyone can get another word out, and some whitecoats roll in a bunch of stretcher-cot things and line them up, making the already tiny room seems even smaller. I guess this means we'll be sleeping in here.

I don't protest as the lights are shut off from the outside and the door is locked. I simply collapse in one of the beds and fall asleep almost instantly.

**So there we have it. The start of chaos! *Claps politely***

**REVIEW GUYS. SERIOUSLY. EVERY REVIEW I GET, I MOVE THE PUBLISHING TIME FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER A DAY EARLIER. **

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**~Ahh I'm On Fire~**


	5. Chapter 5

**SHORT CHAPTER TIME. Here you go guys. Enjoy. **

"What's wrong, Alfred?" Italy asks worriedly, staring down at the nation.

America is curled up in a ball on his cot, shaking and sweating. His skin is clammy and cold, and his eyes are glazed over.

"Economy," he mutters dejectedly, folding up his glasses and shoving them in his pocket.

"Is there anything we can do?" Japan asks, despite already knowing the answer.

America shakes his head miserably. "No. It'll pass."

Japan nods and settle into his cot. "Wake me up if you need help with anything," he tells America, who nods weakly.

**()()()()()()()()()()**

I wake up slowly, leisurely, pretending at first that I'm somewhere safe, somewhere that isn't the School.

But I'm soon aware that every muscle in my body is aching, and when I try to move, I have to bite back a yelp of pain. Stupid Taser.

I know that I heal faster than regular people, so I should be fine soon, but it's still painful for the time being. Plus, if the Flock shows up randomly to save me, I'm not in any shape to beat up some people and fly through a window like I normally do.

When I open my eyes, I'm surprised to see it's still dark. I guess I assumed that I'd sleep through the night and then some, but apparently not.

I hear a small noise coming from my left, and I squint through the darkness. Having much better night vision than your average human, I can see Alfred's huddle form on his cot.

"Alfred? Are you okay?" I ask in slight surprise.

"Urg, _no. _This sucks," he moans.

"What's the matter?" I demand.

He mutters incoherently. "…I hate this state…"

I furrow my brow, my eyes adjusting to the dark. His skin looks pale and clammy, and his eyes have lost their usual spark. He looks exactly how I felt when I was electrocuted. "Is it from being shocked earlier?"

"What? Oh, yeah, that's it," he says distractedly.

I nod; that sounds about right. "Try to go to sleep; hopefully you'll feel better when you wake up."

I hear him yawn and roll over, presumably taking my advice.

I sit back on my bed gently, wincing slightly as pain erupts in my shoulder. I'm completely awake, and there's no way I can go back to bed now.

I hear another sound and look to my left, this time seeing Feli curled up in a shivering ball on his bed. I tilt my head in surprise; he wasn't electrocuted earlier or anything, was he?

But then I recall him crying in the corner before, and I realize what's probably happening. "Hey Feli, are you alright?" I ask as gently as I can.

"No," he sniffs. "This place is so scary! Everyone here looks like they want to kill me!"

I wince, not telling him how true that is. Except, they want to kill him and then take him apart. Just like they've tried to do to me countless times.

"I'm sure we'll get out of here soon enough," I say as comfortingly as I can. I've never been good with the whole feelings thing, I've always preferred fighting and running for my life.

He brightens. "You're right! Soon Ludwig will come save me and then we can get away from here and eat pasta and have a party!"

"Er, yes," I say, not sure how to reply.

"Is anyone coming to rescue you?" Feli asks curiously.

"Yes, I hope so. My family should come; they always do," I muse. "They know where the School is, and I've escaped before, so I should be able to again."

I say this mostly to comfort myself. Whatever I might say, I still have a deep-rooted fear of this place, never removed from being in captivity all that time ago. I still want to get away as soon as possible, and I still am desperately hoping that the Flock will find me soon.

"Ve~! Thanks for cheering me us, Max! I think I'll sleep now," Feli decides, lying down on his cot.

I smile. "Okay, me too."

And I close my eyes and find that I can fall asleep after all.

**Okay, so in this story at least, I see it as whatever state America is in, he acts a little more like the stereotype of that state. Like when he was in NYC, he drove badly, and whatever state he's in now has a bad economy, so he feels sick. **

**Headcanons yay?**

**PLESE REVIEW GUYS. I POST A DAY EARLIER FOR EVREY REVIEW I GET. **

**~Ahh I'm On Fire~**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, so this was supposed to be two chapters, but I shoved it all together to make it longer for you guys. Thank you all so much for the reviews! Keep them coming! It's great motivation .**

"Get up! All of you! _Now! _Don't make me shock you!" a loud, annoying voice jolts me out of my sleep.

I rub my eyes, glad to find that I feel much better than when I woke up last night. The lights are on in our room, and I assume that it's daytime but I can't know for sure considering the lack of windows in here.

And of course our good friend Dr. Sanderas is standing in the doorway screaming in our faces, already looking like he's having a stroke. Ah, what fun.

"Shut up, you moron! I want to sleep!" Lovino yells from his cot, looking like he's debating whether he should simply go back to sleep or throw something at the doctor. In the end he decides to pull the blanket over his head and ignore Sanderas's enraged cries.

"Get up! You have tests today, and if you're not up and ready in one minute then I'll kill you all!"

"Somehow I doubt that," Gilbert mutters as he stands up.

"Follow me and _don't try anything funny _or I'll have your head on a platter!" Dr. Sanderas screeches, practically having a seizure on the spot. Geez, this guy is way too intense for his own good.

Still, I have no desire to have my head on a platter – or to get shocked again, which is the more likely outcome of misbehaving – so I follow, nice and diligently, alongside the others.

After a minute or two of walking down sterile white hallways, we reach a set of doors that leads outside. The term "outside" is used rather loosely here. It's really just a muddy patch of land outside with despicably tall brick walls surrounding it. There's even a nice net of barbed wire to ensure I don't try to fly away. How thoughtful.

And of course, this beautiful scene would never be complete without the giant army-grade obstacle course covering most of the muddy expanse.

"Now listen up!" the doctor screeches, rather uselessly, seeing as we were already listening.

"You're going to go through the course 10 times. But I figure I should at least give you a little tour first…to start, you have to crawl 20 feet under barbed wire and avoid the stakes sticking up from the ground. Then, provided you _make it_ that far, you must climb up a wobbly ladder that's _designed _to make you _fall off. _Then you walk on top of that balance beam that's covered in oil, _and then _climb through those monkey bars and _if you're not dead yet _you can jump over those large hurdles – which _all _have giant _spikes _on them – and then proceed to _sprint _through a large, _narrow _path covered in wet mud to the finish line!" the doctor spits, gesturing wildly and practically jumping up and down with…excitement? Resentment? I'd rather not know.

"An obstacle course? Seriously?" Alfred mutters, sounding amused.

"Of all things…kesesese," Gilbert agrees with a smirk.

I stare at them oddly and I'm about to ask them what they're talking about when a shrill whistle sounds. I start towards the obstacle course when a guard jabs me in the back with a (thankfully uncharged) stun gun.

All of us line up and the start and begin crawling under the barbed wire. I grunt and duck lower, trying not to get my hair caught. This is obviously not designed with a bird kid in mind.

I'm forced to keep my gaze down; if I lift my head to much there's a sharp stinging on the top of my scalp that means I've been caught on the wire.

"Oof!" I grunt as I head-butt a stake by accident. This causes me to fall sideways in the gross mud, getting a perfect view of the rest of the obstacle course.

And a perfect view of all the others, who are already on the ladder part.

"How-?!" I sputter, coughing on the mud. There's no way they could have done it that fast, unless they have experience with army obstacle courses or something.

I wipe the thought out of my head and keep crawling.

**()()()()()()()()()()**

"They took Max."

Fang nods in response to Angel's statement. He already knew this, but that doesn't make it any easier.

"She's at the School."

Of course. Where else would they bring her?

"We need to rescue her!"

Fang nods again. This is true. The Flock – or what remains of it – is currently camping out at a hotel conveniently located next to the building that Max was kidnapped in.

They know where the School is. The only problem is they don't know how to get in.

"But the security is much better this time around. They're prepared for us."

They've taken every precaution to make sure that no bird kids can gain access to the School.

"But they have Max!"

Fang finally speaks. "Yes, they do. And we'll find a way to get her back, no matter what. Now go to sleep; all that mind reading must tire you out."

Angel gives a weak smile and climbs into her hotel bed. Fang can tell she misses Max.

So does he.

**()()()()()()()()()()**

"How can we find them? We have no leads."

Germany frowns. "There has to be some way."

England sighs. "We searched that room – hell, that whole building – so many times and didn't find anything particularly useful."

"Why don't we call it a night and continue searching in the morning? With some sleep, who knows what we'll think of," France says, actually contributing helpfully for once.

Germany nods. "Why don't we check into that hotel over there?"

**AND THERE WE HAVE IT. Still short, I'm sorry ): **

**The Flock makes their grand appearance. You guys, the Maximum Ride people are really hard to characterize. Max and Fang especially. Angel too, since she kinda goes insane and evil at some points. U gh **

**Adios, y REVIEW! I should really figure out how to say review in Spanish…**

**~Ahh I'm On Fire~**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The disclaimer ran off with the author's note, and they're in a storage room with the door locked, and I really don't want to go in there. Sorry guys.**

I shiver and wrap my arms around myself tighter. After finishing the obstacle course a whopping 12 minutes after everyone else, we were all hosed down – yes, with an actual hose – and sent back to our room. Though I'm in dry clothes – even if a hospital gown doesn't really count – I'm still freezing cold.

"I'm hungry! Where's the food around here?" Alfred moans for the thousandth time tonight. Normally I'd get irritated, but I'm too exhausted and hungry to care.

"Dammit, this place sucks! Someone needs to get us out of here!" Lovino shouts indignantly.

When we get to the room, there are trays of cold, gross food on the beds. We quickly gobble them down and start to lie down, but all thoughts of sleep are banished when the door bangs open (seriously, someone should get a door stopper or something) and our favorite doctor stalks in.

"Line up!" he snaps, evidently not in a good mood. Then again, when is he ever?

We line up, slouching purposely and staring off into space. He scowls.

Nevertheless, he walks down the line and inspects us all. When he gets to the end, he snaps his fingers loudly, jolting me out of my stupor.

"Just as I thought," he says sinisterly.

Nobody bothers asking what he thinks, because in all honesty we don't care.

He growls and answers his own lead. "You're all okay."

"Um, yeah?" Alfred says in a clueless manner.

The doctor growls again. "You were all torn up and injured after the obstacle course, and now you're fine! You healed in a ridiculously fast amount of time!" he yells, waving his hands sporadically.

I frown and look over everyone else, noticing for the first time that they are perfectly fine, all their cuts and bruises healed. All my wounds were shallow enough that they've scabbed over, and most of them are hidden by my clothes, but I still haven't fully healed. Even I don't heal that fast.

"Whatever! You will have many tests tomorrow, some _PREPARE YOURSELVES_!" he bellows, red faced, and stalks out of the room, his ever-loyal whitecoat followers trailing after him.

I don't even bother asking the others how they healed so fast, I'm pretty sure I won't get a straight answer unless I know exactly what their mutation is. And if they tell me, I'll have to tell them about my wings, which I'm strangely hesitant to do.

I sigh and curl up in my bed, falling asleep in minutes.

**()()()()()()()()()()()**

Fang sighs and adjusts his grip on the many bags of food he's holding, not to mention the multiple drink trays. Why did _he_ have to go get the food from the hotel café again?

Oh. Right. He's "inconspicuous."

He rolls his eyes and starts toward the elevator. No way is he using the stairs.

**MEANWHILE…**

"Get off me! I told you to stop touching me!" England screeches, pushing France away for the millionth time.

"Ohonhonhonhon~ But I am just walking close to you! What is wrong with that?" France asks mischievously.

"Many things!" England snaps, shoving his fellow country. Soon an all-out fight breaks out in the hotel lobby. Good thing all the other countries are upstairs.

Actually, that's a bad thing. That means that nobody is there to break up the fight.

**BACK TO FANG…**

Fang barely has time to turn around to see what all the yelling is about when somebody is thrown into him with such force that both of them fall onto the ground in a heap.

Fang leaps up immediately and hisses in pain as hot liquid splatters all over him, his many drink trays spilled.

He glares down at the person who fell into him, a man with shoulder-length blond hair and a just-forming bruise on his temple.

"What are you- oh, for the love of-!" another blond sputters as he stalks over to them.

"Are you alright? I'm quite sorry about that, are you hurt?" he said in a British accent.

"No, I'm fine," Fang answers warily.

"Well, that's good. I'm sorry we spilled your food. We can buy you some more if you'd like," he offers, completely ignoring the other blond, who's now whining about ruining his clothes, still sitting on the ground.

Fang opens his mouth to decline, but then remembers that he just spent all their money on that food. If he says no, he'll have to deal with the Flock complaining until they get more money. That is definitely not an option.

"Sure."

The man looks relieved. "Er, right, I'm Arthur Kirkland, and that idiot down there is Francis Bonnefoy." He holds out his hand.

"Fang," he says, shaking hands. Hopefully this man isn't an Eraser, that would just suck.

"Let's go then, shall we? The Café is right over there," Arthur says, gesturing.

The other man, Francis, finally picks himself up off the floor and joins them, walking much too close to Fang. He's about to shove the man away, but Arthur does first.

"No groping anyone, wanker! We don't need another incident!" he snaps.

Francis sulks all the way through the line at the café.

"So what brings you to the middle of nowhere hotel in a desert?" Fang asks in feigned casualty, carefully watching Francis out of the corner of his eye.

"Er, well-" Arthur begins.

Francis interrupts before he can say another word. "Oh, it was just horrible! Some of our friends got kidnapped, so of course we must go rescue them!" he cries dramatically, a hand on his forehead.

Arthur elbows him none to discreetly. "Shut up!"

Fang raises his eyebrows, intrigued. "Where'd they get kidnapped?" he asks carefully.

"In New York City, we had a meeting with them, but by the time we got there, _it was too late!_" Francis looks like he's about to fake pass out into someone arms.

Arthur looks furious as he covers Francis's mouth with his hand. "That's quite enough!"

It was for Fang too. That was all he needed to know. He looks around cautiously before addressing the two men.

"Why don't you come with me for a little? I think we need to talk."

**Yayyyy for a longish chapter. And Fang meets some nation! Including France in Dramatic Mode. **

**Review please?**

**~Ahh I'm On Fire~**


	8. Chapter 8

**Once again, this is two chapters smushed into one, so enjoy! It's mostly Flock-and-non-captured-nations centric, but there is some of Max and the other nations too. **

**Review please! **

"So let me get this straight…evil scientists captured our allies, believing them to be superhumans, and brought them to a place called the School?" Ludwig asks critically.

Fang nods. "That about sums it up."

"That sounds probable, aru," Yao says with a nod.

Everyone else nods in agreement. "Sadly I have to agree," Ludwig sighs.

Fang raises his eyebrows slightly. There has to be something wrong with these people if they simply accept that. Any normal person would bitch slap Fang and commit him to a mental hospital.

Unless they aren't normal people.

_That seems likely, _Fang muses.

"So how do we get them back?"

**()()()()()()()()()()()()**

"Get up! UP! OUT OF BED YOU USELESS CREATIONS!"

I moan and roll over, falling out of my cot. Well. What a great way to start the morning.

"WAKE UP AND FOLLOW ME! ANYONE WHO DOESN'T LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW WILL GET THEIR FINGERS CHOPPED OFF!"

Yup, you guessed it; it's the ever-kind Dr. Sanderas saying this, with at least 5 veins in his face looking ready to burst. I think that's a new record for him.

"What's got him all pissed off today?" Gilbert mutters as he stumbles out of bed, his hair messy.

"Us, I assume," I say with a shrug as I rub my arm, which hurts from falling on the floor.

"THIS WAY!" he screams.

We all roll our eyes and follow him dutifully down the stark white hallways of the School. Finally we reach a large gymnasium-like room that's full of half-walls painted in a lovely shade of – you guessed it – hospital white.

"What now?" Alfred moans loudly as we enter the room. Dr. Sanderas throws his clipboard at him. Alfred easily dodges, chuckling. This only makes the doctor even more furious.

But another doctor puts his hand on Dr. Sanderas's arm, clearly telling him to back off. His lab coat has a black patch, which means he's a high rank than Sanderas. Haha.

Dr. Sanderas slowly steps back, looking like he'd rather do anything else than listen to this man. _Haha._

Then the other man steps forward. He has short brown hair and cold grey eyes. He looks like he should be sending someone to be executed by guillotine, but instead he's here, holding a clipboard and a bullhorn and somehow looking menacing instead of like a well-dressed gym coach.

I stiffen and glare at him. Unlike Dr. Sanderas, this guy looks smart anddangerous, like he could pick me apart by just looking at me. His icy gaze skims over me, as if he's mentally noting exactly how to dissect me. His eyes are cold, calculating, and I don't like it at all.

"Now listen closely," the man says in a soft voice, making us all lean in to listen to him. "My name is Dr. Kenitar, and I will be instructing you for today. You will be going through a maze; each of you will be situated at an individual entrance. You have to find your way out using your skills and wit. But just have it known, there will be things in this maze designed to slow you down."

He looks at us with a glint in his eyes, and a chill runs through me. He continues speaking. "We know everything about you. We know exactly how to stop you, and we _will _be using this knowledge to our advantage."

There's a highly charged moment of tension, and then each of us is led away by a whitecoat to our own entrances in the maze.

**()()()()()()()()()()()()**

England sighs again, staring out the window of his hotel room at the dusty desert outside. The other kids, who were introduced by Fang as Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy and Angel, said they need time to prepare, whatever that means.

England reminds himself that they're just children, and mortal ones at that. They can die easily, and rushing into a place like the School probably takes some planning.

England frowns. Those are not regular kids, he's sure of it. Something about them is off; they remind England more of his fellow nations then of the regular humans. This is troubling.

"What do you think?"

A voice behind England speaks up, and he has to stop himself from leaping in surprise. Instead, he turns around to face France.

"What do I think about what?"

"The kids."

England continues frowning, putting a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Frankly I don't know what to think. They seem genuine, but they're not telling us everything."

France nods in agreement. "Oui, that is true. But then again, we aren't being exactly truthful with them, are we?"

England sighs. "You're right. But it's not like we have a choice, right? If we give away our secret…," he trails off.

"Maybe they're under the same circumstances as us. Maybe they have a secret that they can never tell."

England wordlessly agrees. This seems all too probable for his liking.

**()()()()()()()()()()()**

"Fang, something's wrong," Angel says, tugging at his sleeve.

Fang suppresses a sigh, turning to face the little girl. Something always seems wrong nowadays. "What is it?"

Angel fidgets, looking worried. "I can't read their minds. Every time I try to, something blocks me out. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of a few things…a lot of it is blood, and fighting, and death. These people aren't normal, Fang."

Fang nods slowly at the new development. "I guess that should be expected…we are helping rescue their friends from the School. This almost guarantees that they aren't normal."

Angel looks at him with wide eyes. "What if they're like us, Fang?"

Fang smiles softly. "Maybe they are. Maybe they aren't. When they want to tell us, they can. Now why don't you head to bed? We have a big day tomorrow."

Angel nods, looking a little less worried. She curls up in her bed and falls asleep in minutes.

Fang, on the other hand, is now even more stressed out. He has no idea if he can trust their new allies. He definitely can't tell them about their wings, no, that would probably end badly.

Hopefully once everyone is rescued from the School, they can clear the air in terms of secrets.

Fang shakes his head grimly. There's no way he's telling first.

**AND THERE WE HAVE IT. Development of the lovely plot line. I hope you like it, AND REVIEW POR FAVOR. ****That would be lovely. **

**Adiós, tienes un buen día o noche o mañana. ****O****lo que sea.**

**~Ahh I'm On Fire~**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay so I know this is late. I'm sorry ): I was on a 12-day vacation with no internet access. Pero aquí es más…yep. **

**Thank you all for reviewing last chapter, and please continue to do so! I like it very much (: **

I take a deep breath and squint, trying to see ahead through the mist that has suddenly appeared near my entrance to the maze. I roll my eyes and accept the fact that my vision will be slightly impaired. C'mon scientist guys, having a smoke machine is _so _clichéd

"You will start in 5…," a quiet voice to my left says.

I jump in surprise and turn to see a small speaker embedded into the plaster of the half-wall of the maze. Figures just as the Voice in my head disappears, another comes in and takes its place.

Speaking of which… _Voice, you there? Now would be a good time for some whisdomly advice. _

But no irritating Voice speaks up, even when I make up words. How disappointing.

"…1. Begin."

I jolt back to reality and start leisurely walking through the maze. They never said it was a race.

I whip around when a loud bang sounds through the vicinity. I manage to see a heavy steel door slams down dramatically, blocking all chances of me exiting through the same way I entered. Oh well.

I squint, trying to see through the ridiculously thick mist. The sudden darkness isn't helping either. I walk forward slowly, waiting for my vision to adjust. When it does, I stroll ahead, taking turns at random. I know that there's some rule like always take 3 left turns, but I can't remember it. Oh well. I'm Maximum Ride; I can get out of a maze anytime.

Speaking of which…I unfurl my wings and take off, seeing if I can simply fly up and scope out an exit.

But no such luck. My outstretched hands meet a bouncy shield thing. It glows a faint blue, much like the bars of Alfred's cage. I draw my hands away quickly as the glowing intensifies. It's probably charging up.

I sink back to the ground and pull my wings back in just as I hear voices.

"This way looks promising."

"Well, then let's go the other way, da?"

I follow the sound of the arguing voices, and I turn a corner to see Alfred and Ivan glaring at each other in front of a forked path.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you led us in a circle, so great job! Now we're lost!" Alfred accuses.

"We are in a maze, of course we are lost," Ivan points out.

"Oh, hey guys!" I interrupt smoothly. Those two are at each other's throats, and the last thing I want to do is break up a fight, especially if it's between those two. That would not be a fun task.

"Oh, hi Max! I was just telling the commie bastard that we should go left," Alfred says brightly.

_Commie bastard? _I wonder. "Uh, yeah, great. But I'm pretty sure those paths lead back into the middle of the maze, and I can't see there being an exit there. Maybe we can skirt along the edges back this way, right?" I say, gesturing to the way I came.

"That is sounding good, da, Alfred?" Ivan says with a creepy smile. I suppress a shudder.

"Yeah, whatever," Alfred says, rolling his eyes and marching after me.

"Right or left?" I ask the others as we reach another break in the path.

"Left," Ivan answers.

"Right!" Alfred protests.

I resist the urge to facepalm. "Let's go right, it seems less gloomy," I say with a shrug.

I start towards the right, but I never get a chance to enter the pathway. I instead collide directly with Gilbert, who is coming out of the right side.

"Ah, crap," I mutter, rubbing my head where it hit his.

I stand up. "What's down that way?" I ask Gilbert.

He shakes his head. "A bunch of knives and spike blades. I don't recommend it," he says, rubbing his left arm, which has a deep slice in it.

"See, you should have listened to me, da? Next time you will," Ivan says creepily.

"No way man! You just wanted to go that way because I didn't!"

"No, I wanted to go that way because you didn't, and I knew you'd be wrong," he says with a smile.

"Yeah right! I'm the hero, and the hero is always right!"

Gilbert groans. "Will you two shut up, please? You can kill each other when you get out of the maze!"

I sigh as Alfred and Ivan continue arguing. This is going to take a while.

**()()()()()()()()()()()**

"So what were you guys doing in New York City anyways?" Fang asks the group of people around him.

"Well, we were there for a meeting," Antonio explains vaguely.

"What was the meeting about?" Fang asks curiously. All the others seem to be from everywhere around the world, from Canada to Hungary to Spain. How could they all know each other?

"We're world representatives for our countries, aru! We were supposed to be at a World Meeting," Yao explains.

"We were late though. Arthur tried driving on the wrong side of the street and nearly caused a car accident," Francis smirks.

"I was driving on the correct side, you bloody frog! All those stupid Americans were on the wrong side!" Arthur yells.

"Oh really? And I suppose the street signs were wrong as well?"

"Oh shut up, you-!"

Then Arthur tackles Francis, and it all goes downhill from there. Fang watches in faint surprise as they roll around on the floor, attempting to choke each other.

"Just leave them, they'll tire out and stop eventually," Elizaveta advises, rolling her eyes.

Fang nods slowly. "Alright then…so you're world representatives? What exactly does that entail?"

"Well…we take care of international affairs between our countries, and we help improve worldwide relations," Ludwig says slowly.

Fang nods. "Sounds exciting."

Ludwig sighs. "It is…very exciting. As well as tiring. Sometimes I don't know what goes through those idiot's heads."

"Hey! 'Those idiots' are right here!" Arthur yells, pausing his swordfight (where did the swords come from…?) with Francis to yell at Ludwig.

"Ah, so, anyways, what would the School want with a bunch of government officials?" Fang asks hurriedly, determined to stop them before another fight breaks out.

He watches in surprise as everyone's faces darken, even the seemingly always happy Antonio's. All of the world representatives exchange dark looks.

"We do not know. But whatever it is can't be good," Ludwig says softly.

The temperature of the room seems to drop a few degrees, and suddenly nobody feels like talking.

**And there we have it. More stuff happens, woo. Sorry for any mistakes, don't have a beta and don't plan on getting one, lo siento. **

**Alright, stay tuned for more weird crossoverness. ****Tienes un buen día, amigos! (I ****say****that**** a ****lot, don't I****…)**

**~Ahh I'm On Fire~**


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay everyone, I AM ALIVE. I apologize for the very long wait ): But, well…the Avengers came out, and I'm obsessed with anything and everything Marvel, so I kinda got lost in all that. But I'm back with more AU Crossoverness!**

**Yeah, for those who don't know, this is an AU for both of the fandoms. More AU in Hetalia, but still a little for Max Ride. AU in which is citizens of a nation don't know the Nations, and where the Nations have kind of faded from importance, in which nobody (including the governments) really knows about them that much, so they won't be getting much official government backup, especially from the U.S. – the School is part of the government, technically. **

**Anyways, enjoy the chapter!**

"Man, we are never gonna get out of here. We're gonna die in here, and then those stupid scientist will win!" Alfred complains as we hit yet another dead end.

"This is so stupid! We should just blow a hole in the wall and attack those stupid whitecoats," Gilbert says determinedly, punching a fist into his open palm.

"Uh, yeah, not a good idea! Do you guys have a death wish?" I shout in frustration. For the past ten minutes, I've had to interrupt at least 25 conversations that sound exactly like this one. I hate having to be the responsible one, at least right now.

"No, but those scientists do, da?" Ivan says, appearing out of nowhere near my shoulder.

"Yeah, sure," I say slowly.

"Hi-yah!" I hear a yell, and turn around just in time to see Alfred punch a fist at the wall of the maze.

A large hole appears, but it closes within seconds. The plaster knits itself back together as quickly as it was smashed.

"Aw, well that didn't work…," Alfred sighs. Then he brightens again. "Maybe if I throw you through the wall we can escape!" he says, pointing to Gilbert.

"No way! Throw yourself, or the idiot communist!" he protests.

_Idiot communist? Where is this all coming from_? I wonder again. There is definitely something strange about these people.

"Duck!" Gilbert suddenly yells. I do as he says, hitting the dirt floor just as a huge ax blade wizzes over my head.

"Jump!" Gilbert yells again, and I leap as high as I can. Spike blades protrude out of the floor, and I'm falling down fast.

"Ah!" I shout in panic. Instead of bringing out my wings, I manage to catch my fingers on the top of the wall.

The others do the same, and we hang there for a moment, not knowing what else to do. Then the inevitable happens. A whizzing saw blade cuts through the top of the wall right where Alfred and Ivan are hanging. Either they have to drop off the wall and onto the spikes below or get their hands cut off.

The blade reaches Alfred first, and he backflips off the wall, obviously hoping that he'll be able to grab onto the opposite wall.

But no such luck. He falls short and plummets towards the spikes.

But to my shock, he manages to balance himself in a handstand between the pointy spears, keeping himself from getting impaled.

I turn back to Ivan to see him kick the saw blade away, breaking it off the wall.

Before I can gape, the spikes and saw blades recede. Gilbert, Ivan and I all cautiously drop down from the wall and onto the floor. Alfred flips to his feet and rubs his head.

"Looks like we passed their test," Gilbert muses. "So…what now?"

"Why not come this way?" a voice says from behind us. We all whip around in comical synchronization to see Kiku standing in the entrance of one of the hallways, looking calm as usual.

"Which way? Did you find a way out?" I ask eagerly. I need to get away from these petty fights now, or I'll go even more insane than a person with an on-again off-again Voice in their head can.

Kiku nods. "Hai. It is a few turns this way."

"Great, let's go! We're out of this stuffy place!" Alfred yells excitedly, striking a dramatic pose.

"Wait. Shouldn't we find the others first?" Kiku speaks up. "We can't just leave them in here. The scientists said they would kill anyone who didn't get out within the time limit."

Gilbert fixes him with a significant look. "I'm sure that would be a problem," he says implicitly.

Kiku nods. "I know. But the scientist might find it curious, after the time limit…," he trails off meaningfully.

Gilbert sighs, brow furrowed. "You're right. Let's go."

I simply stare at the two, a probably dumb looking confused look on my face. I look from one to the other, and upon finding no explanation, I speak up. "What are you _talking _about?!" I exclaim.

"Er, well-" Kiku begins nervously.

"Hey Kiku aren't we being timed? Yeah I think we are, now come on let's find the others before we're blown up!" Gilbert says, grabbing Kiku's arm and dragging him away. I stare after them, stupefied.

"What. Just happened," I ask slowly.

"With us, it's usually better not knowing," Alfred says cheerily. Despite having not heard the conversation, he still manages to pinpoint my feelings exactly. I nod, slightly dazed, and continue after him.

Moments later, I'm confronted with the scene of Feliciano clinging to Kiku and sobbing loudly. Kiku, looking incredibly uncomfortable, tries to weakly push Feli off him, but the kid is clinging to him too hard.

I sigh heavily, marching over and tapping Feli on the shoulder. "Uh, you okay? You're not hurt or anything, right?"

Way to go, Max. You're definitely not getting better at the whole 'comforting' thing.

Feliciano sniffs. "N-no, this place is just really scary! Can we leave?"

I nod swiftly, relived to find something I can guarantee. "Kiku knows the way out, but we have to find everyone first."

Something else occurs to me, and I turn to Kiku curiously. "Are you sure you can remember the way out? We took a lot of odd turns there."

Kiku nods. "Yes, I can remember."

I smile. "Good, then. Why don't we try to find Lovino? He's the only one left, right?"

The others nod in confirmation, and everyone files through a passage we haven't gone down yet. I hang back to make sure everyone gets in before continuing on.

But I'm stopped before I can enter. There's a tap on my shoulder, and I turn around to come face to face with Ivan, who has an incredibly creepy look on his face.

"Become one with me, da?" he asks/commands pleasantly.

"I…what? No," I snap, backing away slowly. When Ivan doesn't move, I race after the others, unconcerned at whether he's following or not. If he gets lost it's his own fault.

Man, that guy is scary. And believe me, I don't say that a lot.

I round the corner to see Feliciano cling to Lovino and sobbing loudly while Lovino looks like he wants to punch something. I smile a little, getting a sense of déjà vu.

I feel another tap on my shoulder, and I whirl around with my hand in a fist, ready to punch Ivan if he asks me to become one with him again.

But it's just Kiku. "We should leave now, Max. We don't have much time."

I nod hurriedly and round everyone up, trying to make sure to keep Ivan away from Alfred.

I gesture to Kiku. "Lead the way."

Kiku nods and we follow him as he navigates easily through the twists and turns of the labyrinth-like maze.

Then, just like that, we're out.

I squint in the way-too-bright florescent lights. As my sight comes back, I see Dr. Kenitar staring at us stonily, his whitecoat cronies lined up dutifully behind him.

"You cheated," he says flatly.

"Wait, what?" Alfred splutters from behind me.

"You were supposed to get out on your own, not rely on one person's abnormally good memory. Separate them into different labs. I want tests all night."

**Mkay so there we have it. Stuff happens. Woo. **

**Also, about Kiku and Gilbert's weird conversation…weeeellll, they were kinda talking about how if they don't escape before the time limit, they'll get killed. EXCEPT they can't DIE so if the scientists try to off them, they'll either not die or simply come back to life. Then the scientists will flail around and freak out and realize they have something better than they've captured something very important. **

**Lame explanation is lame. **

**Also, Max = confused. Poor her. **

**Alright so R and R guys! Thanks for all the reviews last chapter! **

**¡Adiós mis amigos (y amigas), veo vosotros pronto! (O algo). Lo siento por mi gramática de horrible. **

**~Ahh I'm On Fire~**


	11. Chapter 11

**Enjoy.**

"Alright. So let's go over what we know and what we need to know," Fang instructs, trying to sound as commanding as possible. Taking leadership isn't his strong suit, usually Max is the one who does that. But he has no choice now, as the one who knows the most about the School.

"Well, you know the general location of the School, ja?" Ludwig asks. He seems to be the unofficial leader of the other group of people.

"Yes. We know the School is somewhere around here," Fang says, circling his finger around a generous portion of the map. "More specifically, we can assure that as long as they haven't moved location – unlikely – then the School is here." Fang points again, this time at a smaller region.

"Good. What else do you know?" Ludwig asks, looking thoughtful.

"Well, we do have something else…blueprints of the School. We stole them from some of the computers back in New York, a while ago," Fang says, somewhat hesitantly. He would rather not have to answer a bunch of questions of where they got such valuable information.

"Really? That's great, aru. Now we can figure out the best way to get in, right?" Yao says.

Fang nods. "Exactly. The map is a little bit outdated, but it shouldn't pose too much of a problem. Now let's have a look."

Fang rolls out the blueprints on the table, adjusting the small desk lamp to shine over it better. Why did they have to have a small lamp like that as there only light source? Was it really necessary to have such dramatic lighting?

"This is the main entrance here. It's heavily guarded, and you need valid identification to get through. There's a gate, and a whole DNA-scan thing. We aren't even going to bother trying to get in there," Fang explains, pointing at a large area to the front of the building. "We could go in here," he points to a smaller side entrance. "Or here," another side entrance, on the opposite side. "Or here," a door towards the back.

"Which would be safest or easiest to access?" Elizaveta asks, sliding her chair closer to the map.

"Well, the back entrance is probably the most discrete, but the side doors are less guarded."

Fang studied the map with a scrutinizing eye as the others talked amongst themselves around him.

Suddenly, Fang spreads his hands flat on the map and stands up, getting everyone's attention.

"I have an idea."

**Ughhhh despicably short I know. Sorry guys. **

** I shall do better next time. **

** Uhhh…..review? IF YOU REVIEW THAN I WRITE FASTER. **

**ALSO QUICK QUESTION TO EVERYONE: ****What do we all think about the new look for ? **

_**I FREAKING HATE IT. **_

**Er sorry guys. I basically read fanfiction only on my tablet thingy, and it's really really hard to use on it. My screen is small and in order to read a sentence I have to scroll all the way to the side and then back and…urg. THE WORDS DO NOT FIT ON THE SCREEN. **

**It's basically in landscape when I want it in portrait. DOES ANYONE KNOW HOW TO FIX THIS? ****Yo necesito ayudar. **

** Tan muchas gracias todo el mundo…hasta la próxima. **

**~~Ahh I'm On Fire~~**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello all, I have returned. *Strikeapose* **

**Onward with the story, which I tried to make as long as possible. **

I flinch as I barely manage to dodge another round of poison darts. I tilt my wings and fly to the left, trying to take cover behind a beam covered in barbed wire.

But no such luck. 3-foot-long pointed wooden spikes shoot out the log, and I gasp as one some within an inch of my face. I quickly fly a different way.

For the past 2 hours I have been in the air, trying to avoid being shot by small silver darts that have a watered-down poison in them. Well, the poison may be weak, but it still hurts, and it can still kill me if I get shot too many times. I've already been hit 6 times.

I grimace and pick a dart out of my leg. Make that 7 times.

I dive under a thick wooden pole, careful to avoid the barbed wire that covers every available surface, preventing me from landing. I flinch and bite back a scream of frustration and pain as a dart rips through my wing. I'm thoroughly exhausted, and it's getting more and more difficult to stay in the air, let alone dodge all the stuff being shot and me whilst avoiding the many death traps set for me.

I'm so caught up in my pity party thoughts that I don't realize they've turned on the flame throwers until I offhandedly wonder where the spike in the heat came from.

I finally recognize the flames as they lick my wings, and I let out a yell and leap into the air.

This is going to be a long night.

**()()()()()()()()()()()()**

America sighs and rolls over on his bed again. "This is boring. This entire place is boring. Why can't we just leave already?"

"Be patient," Japan reminds him. "We have to wait until the time is right."

"Waiting is _so _not my thing," America groans.

"Tell me about it, this place blows. The people here are annoying too," Prussia says as he hangs upside down from his bed, evidently bored as well.

"Well, those tests weren't too bad! They just asked me questions," Italy inputs cheerfully. "I just answered 'pasta' for everything."

"Hey, where are Max and the commie bastard?" America wonders, tilting his head to the side. "And where's the food? Oh, yeah – the food here sucks too."

Japan sighs. "Well, may-"

But he's cut off as by series of loud thumps and bangs coming from outside their room. Panicked yells and shouts can also be heard.

Immediately some of them rush to the door, trying to see what's happening through the tiny chicken-wired window in the door. A game of push and shove ensues, and eventually America and Prussia are staring out the window while Romano swears in the background and Italy tries to calm him down. Japan sits on his bed, wishing that his friends would stay away from the possible danger.

"Holy sh- is that _Russia? _He's – _ay dios mío –_" Alfred gasps.

"What is it, what's going on?" Italy asks, wide eyed.

"It's Russia! He has his pipe, and – oh, that guy's face is never gonna look right again – it's covered in blood! And – oh, ouch, that had to have broken something…," America narrates, wincing as the yells get louder.

"What is he doing? Are people being hurt?" Japan questions, standing up from his bed.

"Kesesese…he's whacking those idiot scientists and a few of those wolfish security guards with his pipe. That's gotta be the first time I've agreed with something he's done – oh, that guy just fell right down, ouch!" Prussia says gleefully.

America gasps. "More people are coming – and is that a straightjacket? Man oh man, the hospital is going to be full tonight – oh, here comes Sanderas, this is gonna be _good_!"

"Hey, I want to see! Move it, you idiots!" Romano yells.

Prussia ignores him. "Ah, look, the commie's turning on Sanderas now – he's gonna hit him, yeah! – aw, he ducked, c'mon…,"

"They're trying to pin him down but he just keeps hitting them – oh hey they have that Taser thing again, some harm _that'll _do – OH MAN HE HIT SANDERAS, YEAH!" America cheers.

"And he isn't moving, yes! Hah, serves him right…now if only Kenitar could come out – oh man they're bringing giant guns now!" Prussia narrates, his eyes darting around excitedly.

Japan steps forward a few paces. "Perhaps it would be wise if everyone backed away from the door – you never know where those guns could fire," he says nervously.

"Aw, don't be a buzz kill, dude! It's just getting good now – they're shooting him! Or trying to – all that's coming out are these electric dart things. _Lame,_" America scoffs.

"It's not really doing anything, but – is that a missile launcher?!" Prussia gasps. "These guys are ready to try anything!" he says, dissolving into laughter as Russia whacks more scientists with his pipe, all while smiling creepily.

"They're using the missile launcher thing though…they're pulling the trigger, and now- _GAHH_," America yells, his eyes going wide.

Even Romano stops swearing and goes quiet for a moment. "What happened? What is it?" Japan asks urgently.

Prussia twists around to face Japan, his eyes wide as well. "We don't know! They pulled the trigger on the missile launcher, and now there's a ton of smoke! I think something caught on fire," he says, 'kesesese-ing' a bit at the thought.

Italy looks much less thrilled at the prospect. "What if our room catches on fire too?" he wails.

"Shut up, _idiota_! Even if we do catch on fire, we won't die!" Romano growls in exasperation.

"Arg, I can't see anything!" America complains. "There's too much smoke!"

A sudden rattling sound occurs on the wall outside of their room, right to the left of their door.

"There was a fire extinguisher there," Japan remembers. Seconds later, a hissing sound can be heard, and foamy mist cuts through the smoke.

A few minutes – and fire extinguishers – later, the fire and smoke are gone.

And so it Russia.

"Mein Gott, that's a lot of blood," Prussia says with a smirk.

"And a lot of people," America agrees, surveying the amount of downed personnel that lay either groaning or completely still on the linoleum floor.

"I think they got Russia, though," America says, sounding like he's torn between being happy about Russia being gone and disappointed that Kenitar didn't have to intervene – that would have inevitably ended in him getting hit as well, and everyone, even Japan, wants that.

"Wonder where they took him – and if they used that straightjacket they were holding," Prussia muses.

"Any of us could get out of _that_ – even me, and I'm useless!" Italy remarks cheerily.

The other nations nod in agreement. "But wouldn't it be a bad idea to show them how strong we are? They would get curious – and we cannot let them know what they're dealing with," Japan says wearily. The naturally quiet nation was tired of having to act as the only responsible person. Where was Germany when you needed him?

"Good point, dude. But hey – what if they're listening to us right now? Like, with cameras and shit?" America wonders.

"There were bugs in here, yes, but I found them and took care of them," Japan says with a small smile. "I am good at finding things."

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief. "Ve, thank you Japan! We would have been doomed otherwise~" Italy says, smiling happily.

Prussia peers out the window again. "So if Russia is gone, then where is Max?"

**()()()()()()()()()()**

I pant as I dodge another round of poison bullets, wondering offhandedly if the others have to go through the same type of testing. Probably not, seeing as they lack wings – to the extent of my knowledge, anyways.

I glare downward with as much hate in my gaze as I can muster. Kenitar is lounging in a control tube that protects him from everything attacking me. As I watch him, he pulls a walkie-talkie type device off of his belt.

I smirk and flip in midair to avoid some more darts as I see his face go red. He starts shouting a la Sanderas into the walkie-talkie. Although I can't hear him, I'm able to safely assume that something is wrong.

Suddenly a cannonball-sized iron sphere flies out of one of the floating docking stations, striking me in the temple, hard. I find myself spiraling to the ground with a cry, blood flowing down my face and obscuring my vision. I try madly to get my wings to beat, but I stop when I realize they've gotten tangled up in barbed wire – wire that's still connected to wooden poles. I'm falling fast and the wire isn't going anywhere. My wings are going to get extremely torn up, or they'll be ripped off of my completely.

I squeeze my eyes shut and prepare to fall to my doom. Or something.

But all I get is a hissing sound and sharp pain in my wings as the barbed wires slide away. I gasp and open my eyes just as I crumble on the floor, which is free of spikes and fire and whatnot.

I blink and whip my head around, ignoring the stinging pain the movement brings. I glance over at Kenitar and see him open the door to his little tube and stalk out. His hair is mussed up, and his lab coat is skewed. He looks unbelievably furious as he stalks out of the room, throwing a contemptuous glare my way before he's out of the door in a flurry of lab coats.

I gasp in pain as I look back at my wings, which are missing tons of feathers and bleeding heavily. While I am grateful that I didn't lose them to barbed wire, I'm none too happy that the barbed wire slid away so quickly. When it did so, it ripped out chunks of flesh and feathers. It's clear I won't be flying anytime soon, and I draw my wings in with my teeth clenched to prevent from crying out.

Suddenly rough hands grab my arms and haul me up. I let out an involuntary cry of pain, and I discover that my limbs are limb and numb. I can't move – probably because of the poison. I can only hope that it wears off, and fast.

As I'm dragged through the halls, I become aware of a few other things. I can't see out of my left eye, and my right eye is too gummed up with blood to open. I can feel blood running down my face and trailing behind me on the floor.

I make it halfway to the room before I pass out.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

**Language key (dios mío do I really need one of those now):**

**Ay dios mío – (Spanish) Oh my god. **

**Idiota – (Italian) Idiot.**

**Mein Gott – (German) My God.**

**As to why America spoke Spanish – well he's in California or Arizona, and there are lots of Spanish speaking people there. This goes w/my earlier headcanon that he acts like the stereotype of whatever state he's in – so his Spanish skills would be better now. **

**Finally those scientists got a little sense knocked into them. ****Ay dios mío ellos están molestando. **

**And there we have it. There would have definitely been more swearing, but I'm on hyper alert because stories have been deleted because of that. I also toned down the violence (if you can believe it) in this chapter too. This whole deleting thing is wicked stupid… **

**Anyways, REVIEW. REVIEW = MOTIVATION and MOTIVATION = MORE CHAPTERS FASTER. **

**Also, TIME FOR SOME SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION. If anyone likes the Avengers, I'm publishing a story (movieverse) for that in a second. Just a one-shot, but the Avengers is my favortest fandom ever, so I'll be publishing more stuff for it. **

**Alright I am done talking. **

**~Ahh I'm On Fire~**


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay first off I'm so sorry, I know I said I'd update this within the week but apparently I was lying. Being a camp counselor is demanding and exhausting. One more week and I'll be free...oh wait not really I have xc. #Dead.**

**Onward my minions. **

Fang sits back down as soon as all the attention is on him. "Well, we don't know exactly where everybody is being held – although we do know it's along the Mutant Prisoner Containment Wing, here –" Fang highlights a long hallway with one finger. "The side entrances are at either end of the hallway, so we definitely have to use those."

"Alright, so do we all rush in at once or something?" Francis asks.

"No, we need to do this as discreetly as possible. We don't know which cell everyone is in – or if they're all in one cell. They could have been separated, although it's unlikely."

"But won't it be rather not discrete if we just walk in and start unlocking cells?" Antonio questions.

"Yes, exactly – which is why we need a few people to act as the diversion. It can't be me or anyone from my group, seeing as the School knows us – it has to be one of you."

The other people all exchange glances, everyone sizing each other up.

Arthur raises a hand. "I volunteer Francis."

"Hey! Just because I am better-"

"No, think about it! You're flashy and dramatic; all you have to do is cause a scene and everyone will come running." Arthur points out.

Everyone else pauses to consider this, nodding slowly. "Yes, it makes sense. Sorry, mi amigo," Antonio says sympathetically.

"But we still need someone else to go with him – just in case," Fang reminds them.

"I'll go," someone says from the back of the group.

Everyone whips around to see someone who looks kinda familiar sitting in the back with a polar bear (?) in his arms.

"Who are you?" Fang asks suspiciously, trying to remember if he'd been there the whole time.

"I'm Can- er, Matthew Williams," he answers quietly.

"Well alright, you can go with Francis to be a diversion," Fang instructs.

Fang stares down at the map, thinking. "Now, as for the rest of you – we'll go in two separate groups. Half will come down the right side hallway, and the other half will come down the left side hallways. Simple enough, right? And if the distraction goes according to plan, most of the guards will be called away to deal with the 'situation' in the front – the guards in the Mutant Prisoner Containment Wing are the closest to the front, and therefore the most likely to get called up if chaos breaks out," Fang explains.

The others nod in understanding, and Fang continues.

"The locks are rather standard, nothing special – they can be picked easily, or broken open with a blunt object. That's not an issue.

"The issue is the escape. We need some way to get all the captured people out and into some sort of transportation – nothing huge, it has to be discrete and able to blend in with the vehicles that the school uses – sort of army looking trucks, jeeps, things like that."

"Oh, we can get you any car," Ludwig promises.

"Alright, then it seems like we have a plan. Let's meet back here to finalize everything and look for gaps in the morning. For now, everyone get some sleep."

**()()()()()()()()()()()()()**

The nations are all asleep by the time Max is brought to the room. The door is shoved open loudly and she's deposited unceremoniously on the floor, the door slamming shut moments later.

The nations are all woken by the loud entrance, and they sit up in their beds, blinking groggily and glancing around the room, wondering what disturbed them.

Then America catches sight of Max on the floor, bleeding and passed out. "Aw, shit."

Everyone else follows his gaze and gasp. They all take notice of the blood in an instant – it's everywhere, soaking into Max's clothes and slicking her skin. Already, there's a puddle of blood forming fast on the floor. The sticky red substance is dripping out of Max's apparent wounds at an alarming rate.

"Quick," Japan urges. "Get her on a bed; we need to do something to help."

Once Max is safely on her bed, the nations – minus Italy, who's crying in the background again – try to pinpoint exactly where all the blood is coming from.

"Well," Prussia states, "This isn't good."

"No freaking duh!" America retorts. "We have to do _something!_"

"Why don't we start by washing off the blood?" Japan says softly. He tries not to look at the red, but there's _so much_, and it doesn't seem to be getting any better.

America quickly soaks paper towels in water and passes them to Japan, glad that they have a sink in the corner of their dismal room.

Soon, Prussia and even Romano join in and wipe the red away from Max's face. A heap of bloodstained tissues soon accumulates on the ground.

Finally, after about ten minutes of working in silence, the blood is gone, leaving her wounds exposed. The nations wince when they see.

There are tons of scratches and gouges in her skin, and pinprick-like holes everywhere as well. Bruises are already starting to form everywhere, and blood is already seeping out of the just-cleaned wounds. Although, the worst would have to be the huge, bloody dent in Max's left temple, just above her eye. It's already a deep, dangerous shade of purple, and there are shards of what look like metal embedded into the raw, torn up skin. Both her eyes are shadowed by purple, and the left eye looks strangely limp, not moving at all, contrary to the right eyelid, which is twitching like mad.

All the nations know that wounds that severe would have killed a normal mortal. Of course, Max isn't normal, and lucky for that.

"We need tweezers or something to pick out the metal from that," Japan muses.

"Oh, I've got some right here!" America perks up, rustling a hand around in his pocket before withdrawing a pair of bent, square-tipped tweezers.

"Wha- How did you have that in there, bastard?" Romano says, startled.

"Oh, well, it fell out of my Swiss army knife – the guards took that, but overlooked this, I guess. They don't really work too good but it's better than nothing, right?"

Japan nods mutely and snatches the tweezers from America, bending them back into a semi-useable shape. He leans close to the wound and squints, frowning. "May I borrow your glasses, America?"

America furrows his brow in confusions, but still complies, handing over his glasses to Japan.

Japan holds the glasses over the wound on Max's forehead, bending closer and looking into them.

America suddenly understands, his face clearing. "Oh! Like a magnifying glass!" he exclaims unnecessarily.

Prussia and Romano both shoot him a deadpan look. Japan ignores him in favor of gently plucking shards of metal out of Max's forehead, dropping them carefully on a damp paper towel.

The other nations have the smarts to stay quiet while Japan meticulously cleans and sanitizes all of Max's wounds. He wraps everything in paper towels, which is the best he can do, considering the severe limitations of their supplies.

Finally, after a tense ten minutes of silence, Japan backs away, handing the tweezers and glasses back to America, who mutters his thanks.

All the nations jump as the door is shoved open a few feet, just enough for a pile of trays containing food to be dropped into the room. The door slams shut just as quickly as it was opened, and Max moans quietly from her resting spot.

The countries eat their food quickly. America doesn't even complain about the disgusting quality of the food. They're all shaken by Russia's disappearance – however unnerving and creepy his presence might be – and Max's injuries.

After they're done with their food, Japan goes to check on Max. He takes her pulse again, glad to find it stronger than it was when she was dumped into the room. He changes her paper towel bandages, and gently tugs open each of her eyelids.

"Oh, no…," he murmurs as he lifts Max's left eyelid.

"What? What is it?" America asks, sliding over. He looks down and his eyes widen. "_Oh_."

Max's left eye is cloudy and white, an off-color shade of blue more than the usual brown. Unlike her other eye, which is rolled back into her head like it should be, this one is staring straight up. Her eye isn't moving, instead glazed over and fixed in an upward glare at nothing.

Prussia, Romano and Italy all lean over and catch sight of Max's blind eye. Italy starts crying once again, and Romano swears in Italian. Prussia's eyes widen much like America's. "Oh no…"

Japan stands up and marches to his bed. "We should get some rest. There's nothing we can do."

The other nations all take a long glance at Max before silently agreeing and retreating to their beds.

After hours of tossing and turning, they all finally fall into restless sleep.

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

**Shit just got real guys. **

**Lol I totally didn't plan any of this. Like at alllll. My fingers just type at 85 words per minute and type out this stuff and I don't even know where it comes from okay. **

**Okay and to clear something up the nations aren't really freaked out at the sight of blood and gore, they just don't like seeing such bad injuries on a mortal. They can't die so if one of them sustained those injuries it would be nothing, but to someone like Max, it could mean death, and that worries them.**

**ALSO quick note – other countries will be appearing in this eventually. Later. But they will show up. So yeah. **

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW YES YES YES. That is what I need for motivations. **

**Also I realize that I broke one hundred reviews. Omg you guys I'm gonna cry except not really cause I'm soulless and never cry like ever. **

**HERE IS MY ACCEPTANCE SPEECH (IN SPANISH!):**

**Ay, mis amigos, le doy las gracias. Vosotros estáis lo mejor. Yo soy llanto ahora, seriamente. ¡Esto es tan impresionante, amigos! ¡Mantener a revisando! También, lo siento por mi gramática de horrible. Soy cansado mucho ahora…Necesito más dormir. De todas formas, muchas gracias todo el mundo. ****Significa mucho. **

**Not gonna translate that cause it's probably all wrong anyways. I seriously need to sleep like now I'm not even kidding I am wicked exhausted. **

**Okay bye now! Don't forget to review!**

**~~Ahh I'm On Fire**


	14. Chapter 14

**AHHHH OKAY I'M ALIVE. I HAVE RETURNED. **

**Please don't hate me! I'm so sorry that I have not updated in literally 2 months. D: Long story short, my laptop got thrown out and window and HEY IT BROKE but it was only a first story window so the hard drive was okay and stuff and nOW IT'S BACK AND SO AM I. **

**Here is more wunderbar story stuff. I apologize for the shortness of the chapter, but I really just wanted to get it out there. I'll probably put for more up soon **

**Enjoy!**

**(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)**

_My entire body hurts. _

That's the first thing that comes into my aching head when I come to, groaning. I stop when my ears begin to ring.

I force the natural panic down and decide to start slow. Okay. Breathing.

I take a deep breath and wince slightly. It hurts, but no ribs are broken. Good. Okay.

I wiggle my toes and fingers. I move my arms and legs. Everything seems to be in working order – it's clear that a few bones were broken, but are nearly healed. I'm aching all over, but I've been worse.

I've always been worse.

Finally, I open my eyes a fraction of an inch. I immediately shut them when the pain and bright light overwhelms me. I take a deep breath and crack open my eyelids a little more. I force them to stay open, and slowly, ever so slowly, I open my eyes.

I find myself staring at – surprise! – a blank white ceiling. But something seems…off. _Wrong. _Even though it's blank and white and empty, there is not _enough _blank white emptiness.

I blink and I blink and I blink but it _doesn't go away. _I close my eyes for a full minute and then open them again, searching the emptiness for something that I can't find.

And I can't ignore the stabbing, throbbing pain that has appeared above my left eye. _In _my left eye, even.

Finally, despite the fact that I feel like I have the worst hangover in existence, I slowly turn my head to the side and take in the room.

Then, all at once, I realize what's wrong. I can't see out of my left eye.

_I can't see out of my left eye. _

I sit up with a cry, my vision immediately going blank and my head spinning and throbbing with pain. I gasp as I tumble off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud, painful thump. I'm shaking and I still can't see, but I get up anyways, spinning around wildly and trying to find something, anything.

All of a sudden there's a hand on my shoulder. _Fang? _I think in an instant. But no, that can't be right, Fang isn't here.

"Max, you must lay down, you are still injured," a calming voice that I recognize as Kiku's sounds through the room.

"Just calm down, dude! We'll, like, explain everything or something," Alfred says as he forces me back into my bed.

I lay back with my eyes closed, breathing in as deeply as I possibly can. They're right. I must remain calm. Panicking will get me nowhere.

Finally, after at least 5 minutes of pushing down the rising panic in me, I open my eyes. I can see again, but only out of my right eye.

I gladly accept Alfred's offered hand, and I sit up in bed. "How long was I asleep?" I inquire in a quiet tone.

"Only about a day…nobody has come in either, which is kinda strange…," Gilbert says, joining Kiku and Alfred in standing next to my bed.

There's a beat of silence before I bite the bullet and ask, "How bad is it?"

More silence follows. Nobody seems to want to answer. Finally, Kiku does. "You broke a few bones and got pretty cut up, but that's all healed. You did get hit very hard in the forehead above your left eye, and the trauma was enough to make you go blind in your left eye," he says softly. "It might heal, but that would take a very long time."

I nod slowly, despite the stabbing pain it brings. "Thank you," I reply simply. I can't seem to say anything else. What _is _there to say? I _need _my sight.

_At least the sight in one of your eyes remains, _The Voice tells me.

Ah, wonderful. It appears that as well as losing the vision in my left eye, The Voice has returned.

"Oh, you're back? Pity," I grumble.

"Who're you talking to?" Alfred and Gilbert say in offbeat synchronization.

"Oh, just The Voice. You know, the one in my head?" I say offhandedly.

I get blank looks from everyone. "What the hell, are you insane?" Lovino snaps from somewhere to the left of me.

I turn to the side and spot Lovino and Feliciano standing on the left side of my bed. I realize that I couldn't see them beforehand because of my brand new limited vision. I mutter a few choice curse words under my breath. I already hate this.

"Ah, no, I don't think so at least. I just happen to have a disembodied Voice in my head?" I reply, my answer sounding more like an uncertain question than anything.

"Er, right, of course – ah, are you sure that's not from the head trauma?" Alfred suggests.

"No, no, the Voice has been in my head for a while. At first I thought it was coming from this chip in my arm, but then the chip was removed and it was still there…at this point, I don't know," I explain quickly, rubbing my spinning head and wanting to sleep some more.

"Yeah, that…makes sense," Gilbert says slowly.

I look around at the people gathered around me, and then around the room. I begin to realize that something – someone, rather – is quite obviously missing. "Hey…where's Ivan?"

"He got dragged of by people with big guns! It was really scary…," Feliciano whimpered.

"Wow…," I mutter. "What the hell _happened _while I was asleep?"

Kiku frowns. "Nothing much, actually. Strangely enough, nobody has come into this room ever since Ivan was taken away and you were thrown in here."

I grimace and sit up in bed more. "That can't be good. That's _never _good."

Everyone nods in agreement.

I sigh. "So tell me everything."

**()()()()()()()()()()**

Fang shuffles through the sparse supplies he's laid out on his dusty hotel bed. He's trying in vain to reorganize their messy inventory, seeing if he can find anything useful. Sadly, there isn't much.

"Fang?"

He turns around to see Angel standing by the seemingly broken television, looking worried. Oh, not again. He has no idea how to deal with any of this.

"Yes, Angel?"

"Do you think this plan is going to work?" she asks, tilting her head to the side.

Fang sighs. Of all the questions to ask. "I don't know, but I hope so. We need to get Max out."

Angel nods in earnest. "I know! But, do you think we can trust these other people?"

Fang stays silent for a moment, contemplating. "I don't know, Angel. You said it before – they aren't telling us everything, but we aren't telling them everything either. And they seem to know a lot, and they're obviously good fighters, so I think they can help. But no, I don't trust them. And they don't trust us either."

Angel's piercing gaze holds his for a second before she looks away and nods, apparently satisfied with the answer.

Fang goes back to reorganizing their things and wondering when he can see Max again.

**()()()()()()()()()()()()()**

**Yeah so. There we go. Nothing happens. Quite exciting, I'd say. Next chapter is when excitement actually happens, this is more of a filler thing, but still… **

**R&R!**

**ALSO I WOULD LIKE TO THANK YOU ALL FOR THE MANY REVIEWS OH MY TACOS YOU PEOPLE ARE AMAZING. GRACIAS. **

**~~Ahh I'm On Fire~~**


	15. Chapter 15

**Erm.**

**Hi?**

**Oh my g I am so sorry guys it's been like half a year since I've updated that's horrible and I really didn't intend to keep you waiting that long wow. Time just got away from me and I hit major writers block with the re-writing of the escape part.**

**Can I just say that you're all amazing? Like wow you guys reviewed/faved/followed so much and I'm just so grateful and thank you all? Please keep it up ehe. **

**So to make up for the horrible wait I bring you a chapter that is long by my standards but not actually very long itself. Enjoy!**

*******IMPORTANT NOTE: ****All other languages in this chapter will be written in italics. Mostly it's French, and so all the italics you'll see are people speaking in French. I thought that would be way easier than putting in a bunch of crappy translations for a language I don't even speak a little of. There will be some thinking in italics, but you will probably be able to tell. **

Fang wakes up at four o'clock in the morning, having only gotten a few hours of sleep. He quickly grabs the bags that he packed last night and wakes the rest of the flock. They're tired but get up easily – they're used to having to move fast.

"So Nudge, Gazzy and Angel will stay behind," he instructs. All three of them open their mouths to protest, but he cuts them off. "I know you want to come and rescue Max, but it's imperative that you stay behind and act as your technical support. There are bound to be alarms and security cameras, and they're much easier to take out from a distant location through computers. Nudge, you're in charge. This'll be easy, alright? Especially with your computer powers."

They still look like they want to protest, but there's no time for that. Fang sends them back to the room with a strict order to lock the doors and let nobody in.

Fang leads the way, walking through the deserted lobby – even the desk clerk is gone – and going outside, where their rides are waiting. There are two discrete black SUVs with very tinted windows and government license plates. Fang doesn't even want to know where they got them. And then, in the back sits a bright red convertible, the shining paintjob visible even in the darkness. That is, presumably, the car that Francis and (what was his name again? Oh yes…) Matthew would ride in to serve as the distraction.

_It certainly is distracting, _Fang muses as he climbs into the first car with Antonio, Ludwig and Elizaveta in it, as instructed. He sends Iggy to the second car with Yao and Arthur, telling him to make sure not to blow anything up until they get to the School.

Ludwig is driving with Antonio in the passenger seat. Elizaveta is in the back seat, completely surrounded by guns and various other weapons. There are some that Fang has never seen before, that he wasn't even sure existed. A peek into the backseat – the seats were flattened down to make an extra big trunk – confirmed that there was even more where that came from. Shiny black weapons cases were stacked meticulously in the trunk.

"Where'd you get all this?" he asks, before he can stop himself. There's no way they could've gotten this many weapons illegally, not without someone noticing.

Elizaveta grins. "We have connections. Enough to get us this, at least."

Fang raises an eyebrow. "Those are some connections."

She keeps grinning. "Hey, we don't especially need weapons – we can fight fine without them. But we figured to bring them anyways, just to be on the safe side. Plus, we figured you guys might want some."

Fang opens his mouth to say no out of habit. But then he stops – the whole anti-guns rule has always been Max's thing. Plus, who knows how much the School has changed since they were last there? Their plan could go horribly wrong – and with weapons like these, they have more of a chance at being able to fight their way to Max and back out.

Fang knows that this is their only chance at getting Max – and the rest of the prisoners – out of the School. If they try to stage a rescue and get captured themselves, their only hope would reside with the remaining three member of the Flock. Fang made all of them promise to flee from the hotel and lay low if the group wasn't back within two days.

Fang shrugs and sits down next to Elizaveta. "Alright. Show me what you've got."

**()()()()()()()()()()**

Three hours later, they're one hour away from the School. Fang sighs mentally.

Well, at least he's prepared. He's stocked up with every weapon in the book; there are knives and guns hidden on him in strategic places that nobody would think to look. He even acquired a tiny earpiece from Elizaveta in order to be able to hear everyone. There are five channels – one that places the audio from Francis and Matthew's side, another that has Team A's audio (Fang, Elizaveta, Antonio and Ludwig) and another with Team B's (Yao, Iggy and Arthur). Then there's a feed going back to the hotel room with Nudge, Gazzy and Angel in it. The last channel is everyone's audio, as well as a communications channel. The earpiece is so tiny, Fang doesn't know if he can get it out of his ear – he'd have to find it first.

He watches as Elizaveta contentedly puts together and takes apart guns and sheathes knives. Antonio is trying to engage Ludwig in a conversation, but the German man seems to be stubbornly ignoring him, a fact that Antonio has yet to pick up on.

"Hey, when are we going to be there?" Elizaveta asks, putting Fang's thoughts into words.

"A little under an hour, probably," Ludwig answers, seemingly grateful for finding a way to avoid conversing with Antonio.

Before she can answer, a pickup truck cuts them off swiftly, forcing Ludwig to swerve wildly. A chorus of honks resounds from behind the SUV.

Elizaveta grabs a handgun and stands up on the seat, leaning her upper body out of the open sunroof. "HEY! Watch where you're going, moron! I will fuck you up!" she shouts, waving the gun enthusiastically. Ludwig shouts and swerves some more while trying to pull her down.

She drops back into her seat, half-smirking, and suddenly Fang is reminded of Max so much he can't breathe. He inhales deeply and tells himself that she's still alive, and that he's going to get her out.

He settles back in the seat to review the plan for the hundredth time, waiting for the hour to be up.

**()()()()()()()()()()()()()**

**~Max's POV~**

Somehow, somewhere, Gilbert found a rubber ball, and now is hanging upside down from the sink counter and bouncing it off the opposite wall. The steady _thwack, thwack, thwack _of rubber hitting cement is the only sound reverberating through our cell room.

"Shouldn't we be doing something? Like, I dunno, _escaping_?" I point out, groaning in annoyance as well as pain. My head is throbbing along to the beat of the _thwack_-ing. My abnormally fast healing doesn't seem to be doing me any good right now. My eye is still as sightless as it was when my head was first bashed in about a day ago. And with the limited supplies around here – we're on our last legs in terms of paper towels, and the water only turns on sometimes – we're getting weary.

"Man, I am so hungry," Alfred complains, repeating the same thing he's been informing us of for the past 24 hours.

"Yeah, we get it, _basterdo_. You've only reminded us every 10 minutes for the past day!" Lovino snaps in irritation.

"They haven't fed us in, like, eternity!" Alfred groans. "I'm gonna starve!"

"I'm sure you are," Gilbert mutters, rolling his eyes.

"But isn't this kind of weird?" Feliciano pipes up, drawing out 'weird.' "They haven't even come in here since they brought Max in!" He winces when he says the last part.

"Not a good sign," I muse. "They might be planning something."

"No shit," Lovino mutters.

I glare at him. "_I mean, _like something big. An experiment, our deaths, _something_. The School is never quiet this long."

"What? You think they're gonna kill us?" Gilbert asks, sounding amused. "Ha!"

I fix my glare on him. "What, it's a valid concern! Once the School has all the information they want, or when they think you're too uncontrollable, they kill you."

I pause, and the atmosphere in the room shifts. We all simultaneously realize what this means for Ivan.

"I'm sure-" I begin at the same time Kiku says, "It is pro-" We both pause, waiting for the other to continue.

After a lengthy pause, I speak up again. "I'm sure he's fine. After what you said happened with him, I bet the School wants to take another look at him but doesn't want him influencing us. He's probably just in solitude," I assure myself and the others.

"And what happens to people in solitude?" Alfred asks warily.

"Ah," I say.

"That's what I thought," he mutters.

There's a minute or so of silence, only broken by the sound of Gilbert incessantly tossing the ball.

Then Alfred speaks up. "Man, I wish I could get me some hamburgers," he sighs.

"Your grammar is truly atrocious," Kiku comments in his always-mild tone.

"I'm too hungry to speak straight," Alfred groans. "I'm gonna dieeeeeee."

"Yeah right, like that'll ever happen," Lovino mutters.

"They should have better food in here," Gilbert muses. "Like _beer_…I need some beer."

"I'm surprised you're above legal drinking age," I comment sarcastically.

"Hey! I'll have you know that I'm far older than I look!" he yell in indignation, the effect of his anger rather lost due to the fact that he's upside down and waving a bouncy ball at me.

"Must be the white hair," Alfred smirks.

"You're just jealous of my awesome looks, Mr. Stars and Stripes," Gilbert tosses back. "Respect your elders, punk! Don't forget I'm the one who taught you how to fight," he says with a wicked grin.

Alfred gets a semi-pouty look on his face. "Yeah, sure, whatever." He rolls his eyes.

I begin to feel tired and dizzy all of a sudden, and decide I want to take a nap. As I settle into my cot and begin to close my eyes, I hear Kiku say something along the lines of "No Max, wait!" but I ignore him. I'm asleep within seconds.

**()()()()()()()()()()**

"We're here," Ludwig says, stunning Fang out of his stupor. He jerks up in the expensive-looking leather seat, scrambling to make sure all his newly-acquired weapons are in the right place.

"Okay, are we going in then?" Fang asks, brain still fuzzy.

"Uh, no," Elizaveta says, giving him a 'duh' look. We're waiting for the distraction to begin, then we'll park the cars and go inside."

"Park the cars?" he says incredulously. "Won't that be a little bit obvious?"

"Well," she replies with a grin, "take a look for yourself."

Fang follows to where her finger's pointing, and he can see the faint shapes of cars – rows of cars, in fact, and all identical to the one they're driving in.

He can't help but grin at this. "Brilliant," he remarks.

Antonio waves a hand wildly as they pull up to the side of the road, too far away for the School to notice them, especially behind the crowding of cactuses. And with the chaos about to unfold, they certainly won't be looking for a couple of School-issued cars parked behind some cacti.

"Turn your ear pieces on and set them to channel one," Antonio says with an excitable smile. Fang complies, and after a crackle, voices begin to filter through. All four of them settle back to listen, ready to jump up to action when Francis and Matthew give the cue.

**()()()()()()()()()()()()**

Francis jerks the wheel to the shiny car he's driving, the tires thumping over the curb as he turns into the cement driveway leading up to the School facility. Matthew, sitting in the passenger seat, is turning an old-looking map written in French in circles, as if trying – and failing – to decipher it.

Francis smirks internally as tire marks appear on the formerly clean cement. He presses down on the gas pedal, feigning shock as he crashes through the chain link fence – topped off with barbed wire – and putting a considerable dent into the front of the car. Oh well.

That definitely got the attention of the guards – especially the one sitting in the booth on the outer side of the now-decimated fence.

"HEY! What do you think you're doing!?" the guard shouts angrily, storming out of the booth and leaping around the wrecked fence, holding his gun and ready to shoot.

"_Whoa, whoa, wait! Don't shoot_!" Francis shouts, holding up his hands in an exaggerated gesture of surrender. He tries to open the door of the car, which simply falls off, and he topples to the ground with much more melodrama than necessary. He scrambles up, brushing off his pants and adjusting his scarf. Hey, he has to look like a tourist, right?

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Matthew jumping out of the car and waving the map in surrender, a la Italy with one of his white flags. Four more guards start running from the entrance of the building to join the commotion.

"Who are you and what are you doing here? This is private government property, we could have you arrested for trespassing," the guard snaps, sounding like he's reciting lines from the script of a movie where the dimwitted guard tries to stop the villain from intruding somewhere, and ultimately failing.

_Private government property, my ass,_ Francis thinks to himself. If this place truly was a government facility, then America would have known about it and would have done something about it before this whole fiasco could happen.

"_We are visiting from France, to see the United States. We are lost_," Matthew says in rapid-fire French, talking so fast that anyone that didn't know French as their first language would be confused. He waves the map around some more, as if to emphasize his point.

The guard stares at Canada for about five seconds before turning to Francis. "You speak English, right?"

"_I have no idea what you're saying,_" France replies.

The guard groans. "Listen, you and your friend need to le- you need to g- move your c-" he tries to communicate, but Canada and France just stare at him blankly.

The guard, clearly frustrated, tries to communicate through hand gestures. "Go in your car-" he motions them getting into the car, "drive away-" he pantomimes driving, "and don't come back." He waves his hand in an over exaggerated 'bye' motion.

Francis starts to snicker, and Matthew soon joins in. "_Mattieu, what is he trying to do? Make a fool of himself_?"

"_It's working_," Matthew agrees, laughing.

"HEY! GET OUTTA HERE ALREADY! I DON'T CARE IF YOU DON'T SPEAK ENGLISH AND I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE THE DAMN ROYAL FRENCH GOVERNMENT! YOU GET OFF THIS PROPERTY RIGHT NOW OR I'LL SHOOT!" the guard screams, waving his gun at them for emphasis.

"_Whoa! Are you gonna shoot us? You better not shoot us! That seems like it would be illegal_!" Francis exclaims, his French as fast as Matthew's. _"I don't know what you're saying but I feel threatened! I thought America was full of freedom and fast food_!" He wrings his hands and fakes panic.

"_EXCUSE ME SIR. CAN YOU READ THIS MAP_?" Canada shouts, thrusting the map in the guard's twitching face.

"I can't read or speak French, you stupid tourists! Now _get out of here before I shoot you_," the guard emphasizes.

"Uh, Hal, they can't understand you…if you shoot them, you'll get in trouble for sure. Just call in for someone who speaks French. I'm sure there's someone," one of the eight other guards that have gathered behind them says nervously.

Francis speaks up again. _"Please, can you direct us to the nearest pet store? We are in need of a new cat_," he says.

"_It's very important that we get an American cat_," Matthew says urgently.

"Look, will you morons just shut up? And stop speaking so damn fast, nobody in their right mind could understand that- ah, forget it," Hal says, glaring ferociously at them.

"_I think he's insulting us_," Canada says, staring at the guards assembled there with narrowed eyes.

France grins internally, and plasters an angry look on his face. "_Yes, yes, you're right – HEY, AMERICAN MORONS! You better not be insulting us! We will attack with vengeance if you dare threaten the great French! We will throw frog legs and cheap wine at you! You think you know cuisine? Pah! You wouldn't know cuisine if it bit you in the a-"_

"Oh, this is looking very not good for my paycheck," Hal mutters, snatching a walkie-talkie off his belt and clicking a button on the side. "I'm requesting backup, anyone that speaks French, report to the front immediately."

There was the cracking sound of multiple people trying to reply to his call at one. He heard snippets of each person's reply – "_Pour Quoi_?" "The hell is going o-" "More tourists? I thoug-" "Someone's getting fired to-"

Hal groans again and tries to block out the two blonde men – both now speaking rapid and angry-sounding French.

Francis slams his fist down on the car in his faux anger, and the alarm begins blaring, doing nothing to drown out his complaints. As a hoard of agents rushes out of the building, he hears over the loudspeaker, "Disturbance at the Front Entrance all authorized personnel report there immediately. Any agents who speak French must report to the Front Entrance at once."

Hal tries to grab Francis, while another couple of guards try to grab Matthew.

Francis decides he doesn't like this at all. He flings his arms out of Hal's grasp. "_Ey! No touching the merchandise_!"

Matthew flails his arms until the guards have to back away for fear or getting smacked in the face – a surprisingly effective approach. The guards mutter to each other and grab their guns warily.

France rolls his eyes. "_If you think he's bad now, you should see him during hockey season_."

Then he looks around and realizes just how many agents are surrounding them, waiting for orders from a seemingly absent superior. Right, time to give the signal. "_I will throw many poodles at you-_"

Matthew catches on immediately. "-_and I will forcibly enlist you in the French army, where you will surely fail-" _

One of the guards in the large mob gathered pushes forward. "I think he said something about cheesecake!" he shouts.

Another shoves through to join him. "I think I heard 'awning'…?"

**()()()()()()()()()()**

"Alright, I heard the signal, time to get moving!" Antonio informs the rest of the car occupants, who are all listening intently to the tinny voices filtering through their headsets.

"Something just caught on fire, I believe…," Elizaveta murmurs gleefully. Fang raises an eyebrow in speculation as the car rolls towards the vacant lot.

"And five. Four. Threeee. Two. Oneeeeee- bingo." Antonio grins and fist-pumps in victory as the two cars pull into empty spots unnoticed. The engines are cut and everyone in the cars discreetly slides out, weapons carefully concealed.

The group awkwardly mobs in the space between two of the cars, crouching down and huddled together to stay out view.

"Wow, this is a really bad plan!" Antonio cheerfully observes.

Loud shushing follows his remark, and Fang almost comments that the quieting is louder than the actual talking, but he manages to refrain from it.

"Alright, team, let's move out! Wow, I've always wanted to say that," Elizaveta whispers, flicking her fingers towards the School.

"Now, if everything went according to plan, everyone – or almost everyone – should be near the front entrance. We'll enter, hopefully unnoticed, over here," Ludwig instructs in an intense undertone. "Our tech support back at base has taken care of the alarms and cameras and the rest of the security devices here. We should remain undetected, unless we make a lot of noise." He shoots a pointed look at Antonio when he says the last part. Antonio, for his part, seems not to notice.

The others expressed their concern at handing over the very important position of tech support to a group of teenagers, insisting that they have the supplies and skills to do it themselves. Fang was stubborn, though, and he managed to convince them to allow the rest of the Flock to man the technology. He repeated that Nudge was very good with computers, but spared no more details. They have their doubts, and Fang can see them rising to the surface as they exchange dubious looks and creep at an unnecessarily slow pace towards the ominous metal doors.

Everybody, even Fang, waits with bated breath as Ludwig carefully grabs the door handle in one gloved hand and pulls.

They all breathe a collective sigh of relief as the door slides open silently. No alarms go off, no red lights start flashing. The rest of the Flock has done their job well.

They all slip inside, one by one, and the door closes behind Fang with a resounding _thunk._ They all turn to face forward, looking down the stereotypically dark and spooky hallway.

They all glance at each other once more before walking onward.

**Hehehe yea lame cliffhanger ending, lo siento. Estaré más amable en el porvenir. También yo sé eso es malo gramática, pero no me importa. ****Mi español es muy horrendo hoy.**

**Okay so yeah y'all are amazingly awesomely fantasticle (see doesnt my horrible-on-purpose english make my gross spanish look better? Ehh?) and please don't forget to review!**

**Gratzie mille (aaaaand I think I spelled that wrong)**

**Seeya later!**

**~Ahh I'm On Fire~**


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